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Widely regarded as the greatest entrance in movie lore – while he stands utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, new to the job, navigates the line of detention units until she reaches the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. The man is present, with features like a living skull radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He doesn't move right up until he throws himself toward the window, emitting that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Numerous documentaries on serial killers have since demonstrated that real-life murderers are usually uninteresting, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's commanding screen presence.

He wasn't exactly unrecognized upon receiving his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film in 1989: it wasn't his debut, but a legend emerged. His Dr. Lecter was based, Hopkins notes with amusement in his recent memoir, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and also from his strictly demanding acting coach his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a paternal-filial aspect to these scenes; a painful subject for Hopkins, who recounts how his Lear was indirectly affected by deep-seated remorse about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his initial marriage during the 60s to Petronella Barker, who was angered by his absences and his alcohol use.

The book's name comes from an old wartime photo of a young Hopkins with his father at the seaside – the child who might have felt he wouldn't succeed. He appeared lost, shy and fragile youth hailing from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in the narrative: a baker and a traditional male, a direct communicator who despised the Bible-punching hypocrites of the chapel and didn't believe in showing his emotions, but had a streak of wistful, tearful romanticism. It was Hopkins Sr who furiously resented how they were forced humbly to their wealthy relations like Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with Nye Bevan and was able to secure the young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he shouts during the car ride. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The humility worked, for a time. Anthony struggled academically in his new institution. However, one day in an English lesson he needed to deliver the verse by John Masefield The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and his classmates. He reasonably claims that poetry, on its own, started his career. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Surprisingly, he exited school with low prospects, entered the acting world, and shocking his family, was acting with the great Olivier at the famous theater in just ten years. He more or less did it on his own, even though back then financial aid was available for drama school – a path to success for performers from modest means. His dad remained in awe with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: when he asked Anthony to recite the Yorick speech from Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then left the room and began crying.

Concerning the volatile, strong-willed son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a fit of pique – causing Olivier's regret and criticism – but fortunately found a memorable TV character playing an alleged war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which paved the way to characters including in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in movies, which he liked more to the stage. And he quit booze during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and thus made it into his later years to execute great performances, including Lecter, the steward Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of the book his character seems more elusive, more deliberate. Certain stories doesn't quite come off. He recalls going out for lunch with his fellow actor in the film Nixon, the much-respected actor Paul, who wanted to tell him his performance as Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for Hopkins to learn a lesson from the famous actor of the Goodfellas fame? Not really. Anthony appears to agree with the director's criticism of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Really?

He consistently acts as the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks it is one's responsibility to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and proceed with the work. Quite so. But he also recounts standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologize to that girl! And acquire some decency. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Hopkins sounds like an individual who stopped drinking but maybe not the belligerence that accompanied it. A Shakespearean like him is aware of Cornwall's speech regarding Kent in King Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! An honest mind and plain – he must speak truth!”

Hopkins concludes his book with a lengthy appendix composed simply